The Big ~Bang~
by Third Year Ron Weasly
Summary: When Bond steals a secret CD from a enemies mansion he learns of a plot that could destroy millions of lives. R&R *CHAPTER6 UP* Chapter 4 R for gore
1. Midnight Escape

His dark hair waved as he took a step into the room. James Bonds eyes rolled to the left and to the right before finding what he was looking for. A small CD about the circumference of a walnut sat on a table in the corner of the room. Bond advanced and grabbed the disk. " You again," said a voice behind him.  
  
Bond slowly turned around; his hands in the air. "Drop the disk now," said the voice that was attached to the body of an old friend turned enemy. The body held a PPK.  
  
Bond's hands loosened and the disk dropped to the floor. "Trevalyn, I witnessed your death once and killed you another time. And of course we meet again," Bond said to the man.  
  
"You don't really think you can win do you. If so, you're sadly mistaken. Hand me the disk!"  
  
Bond bent down grabbed the disk and then walked to Trevalyn. About a foot away he tossed the disk into the air above Trevalyn's head. Trevalyn grabbed for the disk as Bond punched him in the mouth. Trevalyn hit the floor as Bond grabbed the gun out of his hand. As the disk was about to hit the floor he caught it in his left hand his right holding the pistol. Trevalyn laid on the floor a trickle of blood rolling from the corner of his mouth.  
  
"Trevalyn if you think you can win your sadly mistaken," Bond said the pistol aimed at the former double o agent's forehead. "But James I've already won."  
  
As Trevalyn finished the sentence five guards popped into the room. Bonds hand moved quickly as the pistol aimed at the first guard. A quick pull of the trigger dispatched him. The other guards opened fire their AK-47's missing their mark and pulsing up the wall. Bond looked around the room for something to do his only chance was the ten-foot high window in the back of the room. Bond ran backwards slipping the disk in a pouch on the side of his leg. The PPK shot two more bullets taking out another guard before he launched himself out of the ten story high window. Glass flew everywhere as his body plummeted through the air. He looked down and turned his fall into a dive aiming straight for the mansions pool tarp. His body slowed as it hit the tarp, the canvas however couldn't take the pressure and he ripped a hole in it. Cold water crept into his attire as more bullets from above hit the ground around him.  
  
He popped his head above the water fast enough to get his air and get back down in the water. He swam deeper looking for anything helpful. A closed grate sat at the bottom of the pool probably he thought for draining. He swam to it shooting a bullet into each of the four screws. He then slid the grate to the side. The water began to drain sucking Bond out with it. The grate led to the sewer system he soon realized as he walked up to a pavement strip used for construction. As he vigorously shook his head trying to get out all loose droplets of water he discarded his weapon for its lack of ammo. Wet as a dog in his dark red Porsche Bond shot down the street back to headquarters. 


	2. New Partner

Torrance Martin sat infront of his labtop, boring into the document that instructed him on his next mission. Martin had been a CIA opperative now for five –no six years—and had yet to get an assignment that really had challenged him. It was probably because he took so long to read his assignment. Not because the twenty-seven year old was in depth with his reading but because it was so unintresting. Usually he finished a novel in- between the times he was too bored to read his mission file.  
  
This one though intrigued him. It's intensity on describing some character named Bond, was unreal. It was narrowed down to how the guy liked his martini.  
  
He clicked down on his mouse paging farther down the document. The last words were: You ship out at 0400 Tuesday. Great, he thought. One of the worst things about reading the mission reports so slow was that he often had to ship out that night or the next. In this case he left for the UK in three hours.  
  
The plane flight left Bond extremly tired. He arrived at the MI6 headquarters at four in the morning and then went through some explanations of how the mission went and then handed over the disc. Afterwards he walked out into the hall, where he saw a man in his mid-twenties. The next thing Bond noticed was the shoulder holster the man carrying a Berreta Nine Millimeter.  
  
Torrance saw the man and reached out with his hand. "Torrance Martin."  
  
Bond took the mans hand, "Bond, James Bond."  
  
"Well Mr.Bond I'm your new partner."  
  
Alec Trevalyn suspected that the Russians could be easily pissed off but he never guessed how easily. The rebirth of Janus had brought back remebrance of old ties. Threats had been exchanged and now a nuclear missile was headed for St. Petersburg.  
  
Petersburg would only be the first in the long list of hits. Tokyo would go later and then the whole island of Japan would be destroyed. That was of course if his demands were not met.  
  
With the intial threat the government would only laugh. No news of it would spread to the press or other organizations. No, countries were not smart enough for warning the press.That was of course unless you were talking about the United States. The United States were very superstitous when it came to threats and a press conference would be held if there was ever a threat of Nuclear Warfare. The people of the country would then begin to fear for their lives. Until the Army went in and suppressed the problem and elliminated it the citizens would not begin to be unwary.  
  
Of course, why would he want to bomb his base of operations?  
  
Trevalyn's resurection hadn't been easy. When one of his operatives had found his totalled body hanging limply from a charred shelf the healing process began. It took a full five years before he had found use of his legs, and another three before he could again build muscle. Even today he still felt pain in his back every now and again. But it was nothing to worry about. He no longer needed to run around firing weapons. Now he just had to command and let his grunts do the dirty work. He just had to sit back and watch his enemies fall. Watch them fall and them watch them be crushed like bugs. First on his list was James Bond. 007 would meet his end when the disc was opened.  
  
Alec laughed, he would meet his end when the nuclear device in the disc was opened. Then he wouldn't have to worry about any of the MI6 agents. 


	3. The Silo

The news headlines read: St. Petersburg Hit by Nuclear Explosive Millions Killed, Where Did It Come From? Devastating Nuclear Attack On Russia; the pictures showed gravel piles the size of mountains, and destroyed bodies stacked high.  
  
Trevalyn put down the newspapers and brought the mug of coffee to his mouth and drained it. All he had to say to St. Petersburg's destruction was Russia should have appeased him. Either that or stayed wary.  
  
Alec stood and walked to the window still holding his mug. The government of Japan would also get a taste of a nuclear explosive. Just as soon as he could demand something from them, get rejected, and throw them a threat. Oh and then there was the problem of finding a new missile. He had control of the American silo but still lacked another missile. Well his men would work on that.  
  
He walked back to his desk put the mug down and picked up the phone before hitting a button. The phone began to ring. He laughed at the thought of being one of the only men in the world to have Japan on speed dial.  
  
  
  
Wesley Wilson ran up to entrance to the Israeli missile silo a team of five behind him each armed with AK47's. One of his team members ran to the high security door attached a small explosive and ran back in his place behind Wilson. The door exploded revealing two very surprised guards both armed with Uzi's. Wesley let three bullets fly from his gun, each one of them hitting the first guard in the head causing a cloud of red and pink to spray from the back of it.  
  
The second guard had time to bring his Uzi up before three more similarly aimed bullets killed him. Wilson waved his team into the silo. When Wilson finally entered the silo he realized the explosion had triggered an alarm. Four more ran down the hall in answer to the alarm. Two of Wilson's men mowed them down with their AK's. "You two," he said pointing to two of his team, "Go around that way meet us on the other side."  
  
The two nodded and ran down the hall pointed out to them. "You," he said pointing to another, "Stay by the door and make sure more don't arrive. Got it."  
  
"Got it!" the man replied.  
  
"And you follow me."  
  
United States President Frank Harris sat at his desk taking a breather from his press conference minutes before. The phone on his desk rang. He picked it up. "Hello."  
  
"Mr. President the Israeli Ambassador is on the other line, says he has something important to ask of you."  
  
"Thanks Diane, put him on."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
It would be a long day if Israel already to talk to him. Peace talks, he thought to himself with a sigh. A voice came on seconds later.  
  
"Mr. President, we are having a crisis at one of our Nuclear Warhead Silo's. Our NWS was reportedly attacked about fifteen minutes ago. We have reasons to believe they are trying to steal are missile."  
  
"Holy Shit."  
  
Torrance answered his cell phone after the third ring. He and Bond were down in Q's lab looking at different gadgets. The two didn't really connect the way partners should but they could stand each other. Maybe it would just take time.  
  
"Hello," Martin said into the receiver.  
  
"Torrance, Israeli Missile site attacked."  
  
"Frank!?"  
  
"Yeah it's me. I want you to go and stop it. You're the calvary."  
  
"When?"  
  
"I got a chopper coming to the MI6 headquarters to pick you up. He'll be there in five minutes. Lock and load. Casualties are not a problem."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Who was it," Bond asked seconds later.  
  
"The President. You up for a trip to Israel."  
  
Wilson continued his run down the hall only stopping when from one of the launch room's two guards came. The first must've had great reflexes because he had enough time to fire off a stream of bullets before his head split in half. The second was a relative newbie because he tried to run back into the room when his friend bit the dust. To late for him though, he hit the ground when he got a bullet in his back. Both died from Wesley's gun, he realized. He turned to his companion and found the man bleeding on the ground his hand clasped over his stomach. The adrenaline of the skirmish must have muted out the poor bastard's moans because Wilson hadn't even noticed.  
  
His name was Charley Murray, and he was on the floor dying. To bad, Wilson thought lowering his AK, Chuck always was helpful. He put his AK to Murray's head and pulled the trigger. A wounded soldier was a useless soldier.  
  
In front of Wilson was a double door that seemed to lead up. He advanced. The doors burst open and more Israeli guards came out. Two seemed to be the patrol number, in Israel. Wilson paid no attention to aiming and instead slammed the trigger down and waved the sub-machine gun back and forth.  
  
Bullets cut into the Israeli's dropping them to the ground with numerous holes in their midriff. They fell like a puppet while its strings were being cut, and even this didn't stop Wilson from raining hell. The thing that stopped him was the solemn click of his empty weapon. He walked to the dead guards dropped his AK and picked up the two Uzi's. He then searched the two for any extra ammo. He found four clips.  
  
He walked through the double doors and headed up.  
  
  
  
The helicopter landed about fifty feet away from Silo. Bond stood up and climbed followed closely by the annoying Yank. The boy liked it stirred. Well tastes were one thing but style of language was another. The kid had no idea what the hell he was ever talking about.  
  
The mission was the main problem now though and the Yank would just have to work with Bond's style of doing things.  
  
Marshall was his name. He had no remembrance of parents so he didn't use a Surname. He was just Marshall.  
  
He stood at the door to the Silo, a waiting something to happen. He knew it wouldn't, he always got the boring part of the job. 'Make sure nobody comes,' was what he always had to do.  
  
He could make something out in the distance. Two dark figures. Probably just wishful thinking, he thought to himself. A sound like a sort like a high musical ding issued from the darkness. The sound of the nine- millimeter slug hitting Marshall's head made more sound the ding and a lot less of a mess. 


	4. Silo part2

1 Wilson sat at the top of the Missile Silo an Uzi in his right hand and a radio in his left. He waited for Trevalyn's signal. The one that told him that it was time for him to call the helicopter in for the missile pick up. Something was nagging him. Tearing at his skin. Maybe it was just having to kill Charles. Maybe it was a member of his time getting shot. His team had been through a lot and had not one casualty. No, it was something else. He had no idea what it was.  
  
Bond hurried up the hall to his right followed closely by Martin. For this job the double-o agent was using his PPK with a silencer. The Yank had a Berreta and obviously didn't care about stealth for the lack of a silencer. Bond wore his black uniform, kevlar stitched in between the cloth. Martin had on his office suit minus his coat, nothing to speak of for protection.  
  
2 Poor rookie trying to get himself filled with holes, 007 thought to himself as he continued his run, either that or he was way more expierenced then he let show.  
  
3 As he ran something caught his eye. Bloody mass of what might've at one time be human. Next to the corpse lay an Uzi. "In here," Martin said turning into the room.  
  
4 The Yank had a knack for noticing the obvious. He entered into the room and saw Torrence, pistol raised and some type of commando. Too late.  
  
5  
  
6 Wilson sat and waited. Something just wasn't right, he could smell it and now anxiety was getting the best of him. Gun fire went off. Not the sound of an AK or that of a Uzi. It was that of a pistol. Someone else was here.  
  
7 The double doors to his right burst flew open, and Wilson's Uzi instinctivly flew in that direction and began to unload. His finger depressed the trigger when he saw who it was receiving the bullets.  
  
8 Sean Wilson's eyes were wide as he fell to the ground holding his bleeding chest. He coughed and blood flew from his mouth. Wilson ran to his compatriot and grabbed him by the back of the head easing him slowly to the floor. Sean's mouth opened and a small stream of blood poored from the corner of his mouth. The blood splattered on the floor, in Wesley's eyes happening in slow motion. Sean spoke hoarsly but did so with a dignity not expected of a man just fatally wounded by his brother. "Maverick's dead. I left him in a—," he coughed up some more blood, "Room and seconds later I hear fire from inside, but not from an AK but from a—pistol. I think it's—Bond."  
  
9 The two brothers looked at each other before, through teary eyes, Wesley lifted his Uzi and placed it at Sean's face. Sean trembled as the bullet left the sub-machine gun, and soon after, his brains painted the floor.  
  
10 Wesley stood up as the double doors opened again, two men entered walking. Sean had been right, it was Bond, and someone else too. Bond had been the one who made him whack his brother. Bond was the bastard who he had to kill.  
  
11  
  
12 Martin saw the man and aimed his pistol towards the mans head. James held up a hand to stop Torrence from shooting. The man spun up his Uzi spraying out bullets in every direction but mainly in Bond's direction. James took two to the chest and hit the ground.  
  
13 The man's sudden turn caught Martin by surprise and now the CIA angent had an aim on his stomach. Whatever he could get, Martin thought pulling down the trigger twice. The bullets went into the man but seemed to do no damage. At least the son of a bitch felt the impact. The clip of the man's Uzi dropped to the floor giving Martin enough time to look for cover. Their was a thick metal table to his right, and behind the man was a stack of crates.  
  
14 Martin ran for the table and dove over, before pulling it down in front of him. The lack of blood from James meant the Brit was still alive, but the gunner wasn't worried about the wounded right now, he was more intrested in the present danger.  
  
15 Torrence's Berreta went over the table and fired two more shots into the man, both hitting his chest and doing no noticable damage. The man however felt something because he ran for the crates. The Uzi let out a long stream of bullets, all getting stuck in the metal of the table. Torrence let out four more shots before his clip was empty. Not one of his slugs did anything, all but one only hitting crates.  
  
16 The crates began to leak something. That wasn't important now though and Martin tried to keep himself fixed on the present. He pulled another clip from his pocket and shoved it up into his pistol. He leaned over and fired a shot into the man's leg. The man collapsed behind the crates.  
  
17  
  
18 What was the shit pouring out of the crates, Wilson thought as he laid on the floor the crap drenching him. He smelled it. Kerosene. His leg was bleeding, and their were slight pains in his chest from where the bullets impacted with his kevlar. Right now the adranielne muted everything. He lifted himself over the top of the crate, and let out another stream of bullets.  
  
19  
  
20 Bond pushed himself up, a slight pain his chest. The bullet was stuck in his suit but the impact of it was still like running into a brick wall. He crawled across the floor seeing the portable radio on the ground by another Uzi. How long had Torrence failed to kill this guy. It didn't make a difference, it would end now. He grabbed the radio and Uzi, the radio in his right hand and the Uzi in his left.  
  
21 Static came out of the other end of the radio, and then a voice. Trevalyn's voice. "Group Leader Five, are you ready for helo deployment. Repeat are you ready for helo deployment."  
  
22 Bond brought the radio to his mouth and replied, "Alec, this is James. Go to hell, your not getting this missile.  
  
23 Bond tossed the radio over to the crates, a slug from Martin's gun breaking it in half and sending sparks all over the man. The man ignited into flames and in pain ran out from behind the crates. Bond pulled down on the trigger and let the Uzi rain hell on the fiery man. The man hit the ground and died.  
  
24 Bond pushed himself up and looked at Martin surveying the situation. "Damn, that was sharp."  
  
25 Well the kid could say good things sometimes, James told himself. Martin put his pistol back into his shoulder strap and kicked the silenced PPK towards Bond. The gun had fallen when he had been shot. "That about wraps it up here."  
  
The disc had, confused the hacker for hours. Nothing could break into it's memory. He felt a strange intutition come up and he entered in what could be the passcode. 007.  
  
The computer waited a second before reading out, "Welcome to Hell James."  
  
26  
  
27 


	5. MI6 in ruins Hell to come

Alec Trevalyn sat back in his swivel chair resting his feet atop his desk almost knocking off his mug of coffee. So the Special Op for the missile went haywire meant nothing. Bond was now dead. Hopefully vaporized maybe just poisined by the radiation. Israel was just a small fish. If he had to he would just get some from Russia.  
  
He grabbed his remote control and clicked on the small television on his desk. It was tuned in to some American Broadcasting station. Some news caster was babbling on about some type of deal President Bush had made with Russia. Something about—cutting half of their nuclear weapon supplies—this was great. He would get intellagance on it right away.  
  
The scene on the T.V abrubtly changed to a picture of a destroyed building. The MI6 building. Bodies were scattered about. He had won—but what was that. Who the hell was being interviewed by the newscaster. Someone named Torrance Martin. He didn't recognize that one but he did however reconginize the man dressed in black Nomex and body armor standing beside him. Bond.  
  
They had first got the sign of the MI6 building disaster when a Gieger counter on the helicopter went crazy. They then went down to survey the damage and found the disturbing body of Moneyponey sprawled across what might've at one time been a desk. Even after the whole building was cleared out they never found the body of Q. Probably vaporized. For Bond this was enough to grab up his pistol and wave it in the air yelling 'Travalyn'. Fortunatly Martin could keep a cool head on his shoulders and calmed the agent down. Constables had pulled the two away from the wreckage to stop them from catching too much radiation. Then came the unstoppable nuisance of journalists. Finally James caught a exit and escaped from the interviews followed by Torrance, and now sat in a nice wooden chair in front of a computer. "James," Torrance eased out leaning off his bed a little, "Personal vendetta's are illegal."  
  
Bond paused and turned to his partner. "I had not even thought of a vendetta. Vendetta's are too secret. The public never gets wind of someone getting killed because of a private war. No, I'm going to give Trevalyn hell, and hell is never private."  
  
Torrance let James's last comment sink in before he nodded and rolled of the bed onto his knees. He knew that Bond would not be able to do this on his own and he also knew that Trevalyn would eventually find Bond and kill him. No James needed help and the lead agent of the CIA would be his help. Martin pulled from under the bed a suitcase. He pulled it onto the bed and hit the switches holding it together to open it. Inside sat a arsenal of weapons. "James, well said. Do you know where this bastard's supposed to live?"  
  
"Yeah, I was at his place a while back, stealing the disc that just destroyed HQ. The little—he has a mansion in Belgian. About a thousand ways to get in. If your thinking about an operation then I'm with you."  
  
Martin pulled from the suitcase a Colt 45. and slipped into a shoulder holster also in the suitcase. Bond pushed himself off the chair and walked over to the open suitcase. "I didn't realize hell had so many firearms," James said in a wave of levity. The yank, he decided wasn't that bad.  
  
They both wore suits of Nomex and black ski masks, over this they had kevlar body armor. They had to be ready. Bond had two shoulder holsters each with a PPK, four holsters around his belt, two in the back and two in the front all held S&W 44., a holster on each leg contained USP 45.s. He had two knives in his boots and a silenced H&K MP10 in his hands. Torrance was simmiarly armed with only a few differences. On his legs were black powder charges, he was armed with a sniper rifle, and he only had one knife. Also his shoulder holsters contained Colt 45.s.  
  
Bond layed down against the dirt of a hill about a mile away from the mansion. The mission was simple. Get in their find what Trevalyn was doing next and make as much of a mess as possible while doing it. True the USSR was down but James had to know whether Trevalyn was going to resurect Janus.  
  
He pulled a pair of binoculars from a bag on the ground next to him, and used them to check the defenses around the mansion. His first invasion of the place their was only guards on the inside, but now Alec might have beefed defenses up. He was correct in his assumption. Now there looked to be armed guards circling the perimeter of the place. He counted three—no four.  
  
Martin had a bipod for his rifle up and was placing a bullet into it. He pulled back on the bolt and put the bullet in place. He checked the scope and altered the range a bit. James but his binoculars away and stretched a bit before saying, "Now remember don't shoot until I give the signal. Then rain hell. After the first guards are down—."  
  
"I'll drop the rifle and pick up my CAR15 run in their and help you kick ass."  
  
"Yes."  
  
With that Bond left, bounding down the hill and running full speed towards the big house. Martin stared down the scope and aimed the cross hairs on the guard that James would first run into. The signal, a bright light on and off twice, flashed three minutes later. Torrance put pressure on the trigger and the bullet shot off nailing the guard right between the eyes. The poor bastard hit the ground like a puppet with it's strings cut.  
  
Bond ran right over the guard and tried the door. Damn, locked. Well to hell with surprise he thought putting twelve rounds into the lock on the door. It opened with a kick, surprising a guard inside. The guard fell with two bullets to the chest.  
  
Outside Martin took aim on another guard approaching the site of his dead brothren. This ones head exploded in a puff of pink and red. Blood poured down the side of his head—the part that was still intact—and ran down ontop of the other guard corpse. Two down, Martin thought to himself, One to go. The last of the patroling guards came around the other side of the house and fell with two to the chest. Guards down. A pain shot through the back of Torrance's head as he was coming up from the rifle. He fell with the momentum of the blow to his head and rolled to the left to come face to face with his enemy. It was another of Trevalyn's guards. The guard raised his AK again for another hit with the butt. Martin's foot left the ground and hit the guard in the crotch. The guard stopped all movement for a minute giving Martin time to pull out one of his Colts and get to his feet. He put the barrel of the gun to the Guards face and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The man recovered from the hit to the balls and brought his sub- machine gun to bear. Torrance moved fast and smacked the back of his Colt into the bastards face. The guard fell back a bit but then moved forward ramming his shoulder into Martin's gut. As Martin fell back he moved his right leg in for a kick at the mans AK. The gun flew from the mans hand and into a bush about a yard or two away. Martin worked fast and raised his feet up ready propel himself back to his feet. He did and while in mid-air he pulled the KaBar knife from his boot. The guard moved in and grabbed Martin's hand, the one holding the knife, and squeezed the pressure point in the wrist. Martin released the knife and the blade landed in the dirt, handle up. The guard took his moment of power and struck out with his fist. Torrance grabbed the hand and twisted away his other arm. The guard then received a hard kick to the chest followed by an elbow to the face. Martin watched as the guard fell to the ground. He then brought his hand to his USP pistol and brought it up, making sure this time to hit the safety off. The pistol went down and aimed at the stunned guard. Martin's finger put pressure on the trigger, but the act was stopped suddenly by a sharp pain in his leg. The KaBar was now jabbed shallowly into his leg. The guards foot swept underneath Martin's and brought him to the ground knocking the gun away. The guard came up on top of Martin grabbing and ripping the KaBar from his leg. Blood now laced the knife as it came down as to jam through Martin's neck. Martin jerked his head to the side the knife barely missing his face, instead just knicking it and stabbing straight through his ski mask. Martin rolled over more ripping the mask right off his face. He stood as quickly as possible the adraenaline numbing the pain his leg. He then ran forward kneeing the still crouching guard in the face. He quickly pulled the KaBar from the limp hands of the guard. Before Torrance could follow through and stab down into the man, the guard rolled to the left. He then got to his feet something in his hand. He held the Colt in a two hand hold stance aiming it right for Martin's chest. Didn't the jackass know the thing was had a safety on? That question was soon answered when the guard pushed the safety off. He hesitated a second later saying something in Russian that Martin didn't catch. Martin thought quickly and then through the knife into the air pulling his other USP out and unloading three shots into the stubborn bastard. The first bullet passed through the mans right shoulder causing enough pain for him to let go of the Colt with both hands. The second hit his chest and knocked him back and the third entered his forehead passing through his skull and fragmenting in the his brain. This didn't offer a easy clean up when blood began to spill out of his ears and mouth.  
  
Martin patted the dirt off himself and stuck the pistols back in their holsters. Then he heard something else in Russian. It said, "Put your hands on your head and slowly turn around."  
  
Martin followed the command and found four other guards aiming AK47s at him. This wasn't good.  
  
Bond followed down a hall his MP10 left with only twelve rounds. Soon he would need to go to his secondary weapons. He came to a door and kicked it in, aiming his gun around. No one. He went into the room and found a computer. He went to it and shoved a floppy disk inside. He turned it on and began to copy the files onto the disk. An alarm went off. This was not going to be a good night. 


	6. Tides Turn

Sergeant Casey Moore leveled the AK47 at the man. He looked at him and saw blood trickling from his lower lip. The guy was young about… early twenties late teens. The most intresting part of this man was the smoking USP pistol and the dead body of Ivan Skowsk laying crumpled on the ground. The man spoke a second, saying in Russian, "May I—," by the time that was out a guard behind him, Anthony Smith, nailed him in the kidney with the but of the mans—well what was it. Maybe a M16? No it was to small. It had to be a CAR15 carbine. The man hit the dirt and more blood hit the ground. The blood wasn't from his mouth but instead from his leg. Must've got nailed pretty hard. Maybe Skowsk got a couple good hits in before he bit the dust.  
  
"Are you American?" Moore asked.  
  
Martin spoke clearly for a man just getting out of a fatal fight, "Yeah, your not Russian?"  
  
Dammit, Moore had spoken English, he didn't even have a weak Russian accent and must have sounded much like the Irish that he was. "No I'm not. I'm Irish Catholic."  
  
"And I'm American Mormon. Now drop those guns so I can leave."  
  
"No! Smith take out his weapons."  
  
Smith nodded and pulled the pistols from all of their hiding places. "What about these bags on his calves?" Smith asked dropping the last pistol on the ground.  
  
Moore looked down and spoke in a tongue the American hopefully didn't know, "No it's probably just extra kevlar. Don't worry about it."  
  
Martin heard them but he had never learned Japenese. It just never was required of him. All he knew was that when the goon at his side heard it he backed away. Now Martin would probably get a bullet in the head. The one obviously in charge gave him an order, "Walk this way."  
  
The alarm rang hard and gave Bond reason to close the door to the hallway and attach a remote mine to it. The disk was about a third of the way done downloading. Of course James had no idea what the hell he was downloading. For all he knew he could be copying Trevalyn's virtual girls. It didn't matter he was going to get a lot more then just this computers documents. Why wouldn't it hurry up?!  
  
Martin walked into the mansion his CAR15 making an indention in his back. What could he do to turn the tides. Nothing unless he wanted fifteen rounds in his body. "Casey where should we put him?" Smith asked.  
  
"Up in the Mainframe room. He can't cause trouble there. There we can leave him until Alec gets back."  
  
Smith nodded, "Okay."  
  
Bond's head turned to the side as heard footsteps in the hall. He stood a still as possible and waited. The handle to the door began to turn and then it opened a crack. That was enough of a reason for James to set off the mine. His hand went to his wrist and he pushed the detanator.  
  
Martin stood away from the door as two guards began to open it. Casey stood behind Torrance and the one with the CAR15 stood with him. Just then the door exploded and knocked the two guards away blowing them into the walls. This was Torrance's chance. He bent down and ripped one of the satchel charges from leg and slammed it onto Casey's chest. He ran into the smoking door way and slid inside. His hand went to his wrist and he pushed the detanator.  
  
The black powder ignited and blew Sergeant Casey Moore and Private Anthony Smith through the wall behind them tearing their body to pieces, like a dog with a ragdoll.  
  
Martin's hands went up as he saw the man standing infront of him with a—PPK? "James?"  
  
Bond removed the ski mask and was relieved to see his partner. "Well it's about time!"  
  
Martin raised his hands up inocently and said, "It's not my fault. The guards apparently weren't just patroling the Mansion but also were patroling the grounds. I now have no guns and bitch of a leg cut."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Trevalyn's not here. Oh and this is called the Mainframe room."  
  
"Good. I'm glad it's not just a shit load of porn."  
  
"Who knows maybe that's all Trevalyn's plans for the world."  
  
To that Bond had to laugh. Martina continued, "Now that we know he's not here, whats the plan?"  
  
Bond held up his hand as a small beep indicated the last file finishing the download sequence. He hit the a button and the disk ejected soon finding it's way into James's pocket. "I say, we look for some hard files, then we blow this SOB's place sky high."  
  
Torrance smiled and pulled a USP pistol from Bond's leg. "Rubbing my leg now. That is not appreicated, espicially from a partner."  
  
Martin laughed, "Ha ha funny. Lets go."  
  
The two ran out of the room, Bond now using the PPK he had pulled on Torrance. The alarm had stopped and apparently the rest of the guards in the building had taken no notice to it. They had to have noticed the explosion of the black powder charge, Martin thought. Bond lead the way and turned a corner. A guard stood their surprised by James's sudden appearance. The PPK rang twice before the man fell to the ground. Another man heard the gun fire and appeared running down towards Bond and now Torrance who had just turned the corner. The man didn't even get as far as his buddy before Martin's gun was smoking and the guard had a inch wide hole between his eyes. Martin slipped the USP into the same holster that had held his and ducked to grab the AK. He stayed ducked when he first saw the next guard come from the corner. The AK47 rang out with a stream of shots which decapitated the red headed guard. Bond's PPK was smoking as well. That told Martin that the two holes in the mans foreheads weren't wayward shots from his own sub-machine gun. "Bond, go I'll cover you."  
  
"Right."  
  
Bond ran down the hall turning the next corner as quickly as possible. Bam, bam, bam, click. Those were the sounds that James's pistol made as he fired on the wall of guards waiting for him. He turned back around the corner and motioned for Martin to come up. He had downed maybe two or three. That's all the bullets he had had left. For all Bond knew they all could've been misses. He dropped the PPK and picked up the AK47 at his feet. He had to prep himself for his next action. Martin came behind him and Bond whispered, "Torrance, there's about thirteen of them around the corner. We need a diver—." Bond grabbed the last charge from Martin's leg prepared to turn the corner. He moved and suddenly felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. Damn bullet must have hit me, he thought. With his left hand he touched the place where the pain now radiated. Yep, they had got him. He grabbed up the AK hanging from his shoulder and for the moment ignored the pain. "Martin, on my signal we both turn the corner and fire. Just aim mid- level and you should get'em. From what I remember none were ducking."  
  
"Got it boss."  
  
Bond quickly turned the corner and threw the small explosive at the wall of guards. The bullets flew like crazy and one blew the thing up in mid-air. Bond went back behind the wall and motioned with his hand for Martin. Both ran out and rained hell on the guards. The smoke from the blast and the surprise of the blast gave James and Torrance the advantage, however reckless bullets still flew like crazy. One such barely missed Torrance's left thigh. The two agents waved the guns back and forth until both clicked from empty clips. The smoke was finally beginning to clear and to James's statisfaction all guards were dead. Simaltanously the agents dropped their weapons and approached the dead group to pick up new ones. Again the tides of the night had changed. 


End file.
